


ShinRa's Guide to Survival In The Infantry

by Gothams_Only_Wolf



Series: ShinRa's Guide To Survival [1]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, BAMF Cloud Strife, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff and Crack, Hojo is six feet under, M/M, Multi, you can thank Mama Strife for that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-20 01:07:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14249769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gothams_Only_Wolf/pseuds/Gothams_Only_Wolf
Summary: If ShinRa had one rule, it was never,everget between First Sgt. Strife and his coffee.Aka, five times someone/something got between him and his coffee and the one time it was handed over casuality-free





	1. The Legend of Sgt. Strife

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, the idea came up and I don't even have the heart to say no to a Cloud that loves coffee as much as I do. 
> 
> It's also a homage to a fic which has been deleted, Dishonorable Discharge by icynovas because I miss it and I hope that I caught even half the spirit icy put into their work. 
> 
> Enjoy~

* * *

If ShinRa had one rule, it was never, **_ever_** get between First Sgt. Strife and his coffee. 

Sgt. Strife's love of coffee was legendary; most SOLDIERs knew who he was, even if it was by association via rumor mill. 

People still whispered about the incidents for years to come.

* * *

**I.**

* * *

Corporal Strife grew up with a coffee cup in hand, they say. 

They're not... entirely wrong, Cloud reluctantly admitted as he started his day by putting the filter in the coffee machine; coffee grounds poured into said filter with three-and-a-half measured scoops. His Ma introduced him to the drink at the age of ten when he asked to try some of hers. 

He'd never looked back, save for water because with as much coffee as he drank, there was a risk of dehydration. 

The machine's got lime-desposits from the shitty mineral water ShinRa pulled from underneath Midgar. It's dented and scratched and may all the gods, goddesses and minor beings help you if you touched it before he did. The 'STRIFE' taped on its front was new after last week's mix-up of machines. 

When the black liquid started burbling out of the correct spot, Cloud parked himself next to it with the biggest, equally black mug he could find in Wall Market. 

It was when a gloved hand reached for his half-filled pot that Cloud cleared his throat. 

The hand paused, attatched as it was to Staff Sgt. Mueller, and settled on the man's hip. "Son, that's a public machine." 

"No, it's not, Sgt. That's the one I brought across an entire ocean from Nibelheim." Cloud's flat tone could've cut Staff Sgt. Mueller for how dry it was. 

"Well, you can share, can't you, Corporal?" Mueller reached for the pot again and Cloud's expression went from bland to unsettling with the smile that appeared. "Corporal Strife?" 

"This coffee comes directly from my Ma, Staff Sgt. She does all of it by hand and sends me a pack every two weeks." He mentioned politely. "That's a no from me unless you're a Strife, through either marriage or blood, you're my significant other or the Silver General himself. As you are none of the above, please step away from the machine, Staff Sgt." 

Concise, clear and yet—

The third time found Staff Sgt. Mueller twisted neatly into the human approximation of a Western pretzel with Cloud drinking from his mug on top of the man. 

**_(Somewhere in the kitchen, a SOLDIER Second was laughing himself sick at the shock that had crossed Staff Sgt. Mueller's face for a split second.)_ **

* * *

Thus the rumor began that Corporal Strife was very serious about his coffee.

* * *

**II.**

* * *

It took several more incidents of the same nature before it set in; Cloud Strife and his coffee machine were off-limits to everyone but the parties he listed off before every confrontation. 

He brought a small percolator on missions, just enough for one cup of coffee that was stronger than his regular in case he didn't get a chance to get back to Midgar. 

The flight of Levikrons that stampeded through ShinRa Platoon Kilo's campsite shortly after morning roll call didn't make it out. 

One of them had _kicked his percolator_ over just as it finished. 

Cloud drew his long field knife and demanded another of his fellow Corporal with a quiet, "Your knife, please." 

Sword work may have been beyond him at that stage but knives? Oh knives were versatile and perfect for the situation at hand. 

He dove into the flight, cutting and slicing and hamstringing all of them. Dodge, parry, kick, duck and slide on the dirt of the Midgar Wastes. Spun knife became thrown—he made sure none of them escaped. 

Cloud panted as he finished, covered in a thin veil of dust on his knee and elbow armor with a smudge of dark dirt that was either blood or sweat on his face. 

Their Sargeant called out roll and Sgt. Gosser paused as he watched Cloud retrieve his knife and that of his fellow Corporal in order to hand it back. "... Corporal Strife?" 

"Flight of seventeen Levikron invaded ShinRa Platoon Kilo campsite, Sgt. Requested another field knife of Corporal Jones and removed the threat, Sgt. Gosser." Cloud reported with the knife held along his arm at attention. "Broke his field knife but not mine, Sgt." 

"And why's that, Corporal Strife?" 

"His is the standard issue field knife; well-maintained, Sgt., just met a Levikron spur at the wrong moment. I will replace it, Sgt." He answered honestly. 

"I see." Sgt. Gosser looked at the spilled percolator, glanced back at Cloud and then shrugged. "Resume camp activities. Dismissed." 

"Strife, I don't even want it. I'm keeping this and having it remade." Jones waved off his offer of replacing it, holding the two halves of his knife in his hands. "That was _wicked_ cool." 

"... If you say so." Cloud muttered as he righted his percolator, checked it for any dents and hummed in satisfaction that it remained only a little scratched. 

He rinsed it in the tiny brook next to camp, patted it dry with his scarf and started his morning ritual all over again. 

**_(Upon reading the report, his Commander expressed admiration for taking down an entire flight with only two knives.)_ **

* * *

So it was that Corporal 'Coffee' Strife stories began to be passed down to fresh-faced Cadets.

* * *

**III.**

* * *

Hojo was an unpleasant figure at best, a nightmare passed between Infantry, Cadets and SOLDIERs at worst. 

Cloud stood in front of the space that, **normally** , held his beloved coffee machine. 

He made sure no one had peeled off the label to pull a prank but it looked more and more like someone had lifted his machine, set-up and all, and _taken it with them_. 

Was it too much to ask that they leave a man's morning ritual alone? 

The fury that eminiated off of him nearly froze the Sgt. Majors as Cloud did an about face with smooth, perfect movements. 

"Who. Took. My. Machine?" He questioned serenely, the rictus smile still unsettling. 

Jones helpfully piped up with, "The Science Department. Hojo sent a minion down to collect it." 

"Thank you, Jones."

* * *

Cloud didn't stomp, didn't scream but one look at his expression had employees fleeing before him. 

_**(Only one stayed back and rose a red brow in admiration of the perfect control he had with each step.)** _

He stepped into the Science Department, inhaled the scent of _his coffee_ and zeroed in on a man drinking out of his mug with a semi-blissful expression. 

The assistants, as a unit, hauled ass onto the observation deck at the frigid inquery of, "Excuse me, sir, where did you pick this up from?" 

"Who are you to be questioning me, boy? I am Professor Hojo." The man sneered. 

"The man who's coffee you're currently drinking. Corporal Strife, sir, and if you don't mind, I'll be having my machine back." He replied simply. 

"I do indeed—Urghk!" Cloud slowly removed his baton and slammed it into the man's gut blunt-end first. He caught his mug in his free hand and stared at it like it was a particularly disgusting bug. 

"I don't care who you are, sir, but no one drinks my Ma's coffee unless you're a Strife, through blood or marriage, you're my significant other or the Silver General himself. Seeing as how you're not any of those, it's safe to say that my coffee is off-limits. I've folded people in pretzels, killed an entire flight of Levikrons and if you think about touching my coffee, my mug or my machine again, sir, you're going to have a hell of a time. Understand?" Cloud dug the baton in with a saccharine twist, the smile on his face causing Hojo to shiver. 

"... Understood." The reluctant answer had him removing the baton and sheathing it once more. 

"That's good to hear, sir. I'm going to take my things and go now." He informed Professor Hojo as he collected his machine and set-up in his other hand.

* * *

Corporal Strife, in SOLDIER, was known as the man with titanium balls.

* * *

**IV.**

* * *

There was backlash for hitting Hojo, Cloud knew, but none was forthcoming. 

He recieved a letter from ShinRa, delivered by a hopeful-looking Staff Sgt. Mueller, that he carefully opened and read. 

_Corporal Strife,_

_Physical assault upon ShinRa personnel is generally frowned upon but seeing as the pre-emptory act of one Hojo, Barnaby was the theft of personal property, the action is, for the time being, legal if somewhat questionable._

_We of ShinRa request that Corporal Strife remain a certain distance from one Hojo, Barnaby and that no further assault would be visited upon him._

_Under the circumstances, Corporal Strife's current advancement and/or demotion is halted for a period of no longer than six months. Sgt. Gosser, Corporal Jones and most of Platoon Kilo put forth that they viewed Corporal Strife with some measure of respect._

_Regards,_

_Department of SOLDIER_  
_Department of Infantry Affairs_

It was signed by Director Deusericus, Director Palmer and _all three of Cloud's heroes._

"I'm forbidden from going near Hojo or assaulting him but I'm on probation, Staff Sgt." He supplied solemnly, folding the letter away again, careful to hide his absolute glee. 

He'd tell Tifa the first chance he got, when phone call hour arrived.

* * *

ShinRa's rumor mill produced a staggering number of lies and half-truths on a near weekly basis but Cloud's was all true. 

He'd survived _Hojo_. 

Then again, Hojo had taken to stalking him for even a dribble of Ma's coffee. The man had, after all, had a single rich cup of Nibel coffee.

Cloud was spectacularly unimpressed by the increasingly worrisome promises Hojo was beginning to make. "I'll get you anywhere you want to go in ShinRa. Is it SOLDIER, Turk, executive...?" 

"Sir, I'm not supposed to touch you or get within three feet of you during my probation. Please refrain from offering me things until that period has passed." He said point-blank. "There are exactly twelve weeks, three days and fifteen hours between that timeline and now." 

**_(A certain silver-haired General, bored from executive guard duty, heard every word out of both Hojo and Cloud's mouths and gave a smile so incredibly rare that the SOLDIER next to him actually fainted.)_ **

* * *

Corporal Strife became a very popular person to hand things over in the three months left on his probation in regards to Hojo, specifically because of Hojo's unpleasant demeanor with literally everyone else. 

Cloud saw no problem with it but ended up erasing the ShinRa-given voicemail in order to put in, "This is Strife Delivery Service. If you need a package delivered, please leave a message after the tone." 

When the package from Nibelhiem showed up, Cloud smiled at the note his Ma had left him in Nibel. 

_Storm Cloud,_

_In regards to one slimy bastard, the green wrapped package is for him. Do not drink that coffee and warn everyone else away from it. That is for the bastard only. If he wants my coffee, well, he'll suffer for it._

_Love, Ma_

* * *

The final time Hojo approached him, Cloud held up a hand to forstall anymore words. 

"My Ma said you could have some, on one condition." 

"Name it." 

"I'll need about six-to-eight months but... My dream's been to get into SOLDIER since I was a kid. My Mako tolerance is bad. I want your help in building it up, slowly. If you can manage, a small vial of it every two months and a note to excuse me when I'm sick." Cloud bargained. 

Hojo pushed up his glasses and looked Cloud over with a scrutinizing glance. "Deal. You know, you'd have made an excellent subject." 

"I'm sure, sir, but if you temper with my Mako, I'll do the same for your coffee. Keep in mind that my Ma has access to materials I do not." Cloud answered with the same serene tone he'd used months ago. 

"... Clever infantryman." 

"If you say so, sir."

* * *

Hojo passed away at the age of 43 from _absolutely_ natural causes, the day Corporal Strife became Sargeant Strife. SOLDIERs the world over may or may not have celebrated under the guise of mourning a terrible man.

* * *

**V.**

* * *

The klaxon warning reached the barracks just as Cloud woke up from a nice dream about Sephiroth. 

Spikes askew, mouth pressed into a flat line, Cloud dressed in 90 seconds flat and tied his boots in under ten. 

Sgt. Strife barked the order to retrieve weapons and defend the Sister Ray if necessary, only to find an absolutely massive, blood-slathered Behemoth staring him in the face from the labs in Junon. 

Most of his troops froze; he didn't blame them but ordered them to take cover. 

In a stroke of bad-to-worse luck for the Behemoth, it had encountered one coffee-deprived Cloud Strife. 

Cloud pulled out the half-finished blade he'd been working on and split it so that he held two swords. 

"Sgt. Strife, that'll kill you!" Sgt. Jones yelped from his cover. 

"You remember those Levikrons? I haven't even **had** my coffee yet, let alone time to make it. I'm getting _revenge_ and holding it off long enough for you to call for some SOLDIER help!" Cloud called back, rolling his shoulders to adjust the blades and running at it from the side. 

He kicked off the rock, praying to Fenrir that what precious little Mako he _did_ have was enough to distract it. 

It turned on him, great curved canines snapping an inch from his heel. 

Dodge, slice, dodge, dodge, cut, dodge, scream—

Cloud was caught by the smallest talon on his last dodge. 

It ripped down his ribs with agony-inducing fire. 

He gritted his teeth and roared up at it, climbing the limb that made him bleed. 

The Behemoth roared back as Cloud stabbed it in the shoulder with his hollow blade. 

He wrenched on the blade and the Behemoth yowled as it turned away from the troop. 

It bounded towards the open plain, squalling with every teeth-shattering leap. 

Cloud removed the blade, jumped and was hoping—To be caught?

Silver that fluttered like a banner told him who it was long before he was gently set down. 

"Stay," was all he heard as he gave in to the incredible pain.

* * *

Cloud groaned as he woke up, his right side muffled fire and his ankle throbbing. 

He barely managed to crack open one eye, let alone two. 

The sight he was greeted with nearly made up for the pain; all three Generals and the SOLDIER Second that was General Hewley's mentee. 

The SOLDIER Second leapt up from his chair and had a straw near his mouth before Cloud could even think to ask for water. He drank until he was done, pushing the straw away with his tongue. 

"... Thank you, sir." He said hoarsely. 

"None of that sir business, please. My name's Zack and _that was fucking awesome_." Zack corrected with a wide grin. 

Cloud pried his other eye open and blinked slowly at that. 

It came back with the force of the Behemoth he'd just been facing. 

"... Did I really try to take on...?" Cloud asked without thinking. 

"You sure did! You've been in and out of it for a while and you'll have a nasty scar but, yes, you took on a Behemoth with two swords and the smallest amount of Mako the white-coats have ever seen in their lives." Zack supplied cheerfully. 

"That was quite the bit of swordsmanship, Sgt. Strife." General Hewley praised. "Translating knife techniques to sword work isn't a tactic I'd have thought of, certainly." 

He pinched himself, hissing as the skin turned red but the situation remained the same. 

"All real, I'm afraid, Sgt. Strife. This is also a publicity stunt so we've got two more hours max so make it count, I suppose." General Rhapsodos clucked his tongue at Cloud's noise of shock. 

Sephiroth hadn't said a word but stood suddenly, walked over to Cloud and kissed him full on the mouth. 

Cloud's squeak of surprise quickly turned into a satisfied hum because who the hell turned down a kiss from one of their heroes? 

It helped that Sephiroth was an exceptional kisser. 

Sephiroth pulled back to look him in the eyes and whispered, "Thank you for Hojo." 

"Well, more of the credit goes to my Ma but you didn't hear that from me, did you General?" He teased with a small smile when he'd caught his breath. 

"I most certainly did not." The there-and-gone-again smile lit up Sephiroth's face for a brief moment and Cloud swore that he'd keep it with him for a very long time. "However, should it please you, extend my thanks to your Ma as well." 

When he remembered the remaining SOLDIERs in the room, he buried his face in his hands and bemoaned the loss of any dignity whatsoever.

* * *

Sgt. Strife was immortalized for having taken on a Behemoth, the impossible, and living to tell the tale.

* * *

**\+ I.**

* * *

Cloud did end up extending the General's thanks to his Ma, minus the kiss that still made Cloud blush when he thought about it. 

He did his duty to ShinRa, drank his coffee and tried his damnedest to be one of ShinRa's better Sargeants. 

Only... Zack kept dropping by; the name stuck after Zack wouldn't respond to anything other than that or Commander Fair. 

The _Generals_ kept 'dropping by', ostensibly to check on how Cloud's scar and broken ankle were healing, but Cloud couldn't, for the life of him, figure out why the elite heroes were so invested in his health. 

He was one troop in thousands. 

What did he have that other, more deserving troops didn't? 

At a loss, Cloud shrugged and continued to look forward to the drop bys.

* * *

After he was fully healed, Cloud found flowers on his cubicle desk. 

One of his favorites, though he'd told only Jones and about half of Kilo Troop when he'd gotten blitzed after his promotion, the white and yellow lilies scenting almost half the office. 

**To: Sgt. Strife**

**May they brighten your day!**

**-Zack Fair**

Cloud sat down with a heavy thunk and tucked the card away in his false-bottomed drawer. He shifted the flowers so that they accented his desk and continued to work, his busy day much lighter for the flowers.

* * *

The next gift was a small cactus, round and neat, with the smallest flowers Cloud had ever seen. 

_To: Sgt. Strife_

_To keep you company._

_-General Hewley_

It came with an equally tiny watering can. Cloud prodded the soil with his pinkie to test it and it had been pre-watered. 

He positioned it next to the pressed set of lilies he'd framed, one white, one yellow. Cloud spent the rest of the day humming Nibel eddas as he worked, his gaze flicking to it on occasion when he had a momentary break.

* * *

The third gift took nearly two weeks but arrived at his desk nonetheless, slightly singed gift wrap in place, when he sat at his cubicle. 

Cloud glanced around, picked up the gift and was instantly surrounded by Kilo Troop. "I will drop all of you for push-ups if you don't vacate my cubicle in less than a minute." 

"Can't drop me," Jones pointed out with a laugh. "the rest of you can scram though." 

"Awww..." 

"Out!" Cloud's four-finger point was effective as per usual. "You can stay because you'll tell the rest of them anyway." 

"Yeee-up." Jones popped the 'p' but leaned on the cubicle wall where it was braced by a pillar. 

He peeled off the paper and revealed the cream, leather-bound edition of LOVELESS that General Rhapsodos normally carried around. The cardstock sticking out of the book's edge had Cloud cracking open the well-worn book. The card slid down but he caught it before it fell forward. 

_~To: Sgt. Strife~_

_~To relax after a long day.~_

_~-General Rhapsodos~_

_~P.S. Please open the back flap of the book in no company but your own.~_

"Shoo, Jones, I know you're practically vibrating over there." Cloud huffed as he tucked the card back into the book's front and closed it. 

"I can't believe the General gave you his personal copy of LOVELESS." Jones muttered as he walked back to his own cubicle, only to be swarmed by Kilo Troop like a bunch of bees to pollen.

* * *

It was a good thing that Sargeant's Quarters were individual rooms, Cloud mused, otherwise opening the book alone would've been impossible. 

The final note was a short letter, folded to the precise length and width of the paper pocket in the back of LOVELESS. 

**_Sgt. Strife,_ **

**_In my eyes, actions speak volumes over words or gifts. Your actions show favorably in my regard of you. I would like to train with you, if you wouldn't mind, in VR Room #4 in three days after formation. If you do not show, I will assume that your answer is no and I will trouble you no further._ **

**_-Sephiroth_**

**_P.S. As I am unversed in the art of letter wooing, please let me know if you do not appreciate it._**

Letter... Oh. _Oh!_

Cloud fell off the bed at that, perched as he'd been on the edge while reading. 

The gifts had been romantic in nature, certainly, but all four? At once? 

He frowned as he thought back to the rumor mill's favorite subject; the Generals. The incredibly persistent rumor that was all three of the Generals were dating each other and Zack, or so it went. Was there a truth to it, the way Cloud's own rumors had? 

Well, only one way to find out.

* * *

Cloud cursed ShinRa policy to Shiva's Hel and back as he bolted for VR Room # 4 hoping that he wasn't too late. 

When he skidded to a halt in the entryway to the VR Hall, a swish of silver disappeared around the corner. 

"Ah, shit." He wheezed as he bent over, hands on his knees. "Fucking hate... Mueller." 

Familiar boots came into his view and gloved hands helped him upright. "What has the Staff Sgt. done this time?" 

"Held me... an hour over... for pedantic.... paperwork reasons." He managed out of breath. "I wanted to... come sooner." Blue met soft slitted green. 

"I don't want to assume, Cloud, but..." The hesitance in the melodious voice wasn't right so he aimed to fix that. 

"I know." Cloud cleared his throat and stood straight, his heart racing for a different reason now. "All four, right?" 

"Yes. Will that be a problem?" The green gaze hardened a little at that. 

"Bed might be a little tight," he replied with a genuine smile. "but that's no trouble at all. Means I won't be cold."

* * *

He didn't even blink as a gloved hand reached past him for the coffee pot and poured a full cup into a bright blue mug with a Chocobo on the side. 

The kitchen went so quiet that a pin could've dropped and everyone held their breath as Genesis, Angeal and Zack all grabbed mugs and followed suit. 

"Umm," Pvt. Haise muttered, "First Sgt.? Are you feeling okay?" 

"They're good." He replied, taking a sip out of his own black mug with SOLDIER emblazoned on the side that he'd stolen from Seph's cabinet four months back. 

"The rules are for Strifes, significant others and the Silver General... Oh my Odin." Haise blushed bright red and most of the kitchen followed at the realization. 

"Lucky bastard," Jones snorted, kicking his feet up on the edge of the shitty couch. 

The curl of Cloud's lips behind the rim of his mug said it all, as did the twinkle of amusement in eyes that glowed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment, complain, ect.


	2. Ma Strife Comes to ShinRa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now with bonus Vincent and Ma Strife! 6336 somehow prodded the Muse for this awake just long enough for Vincent to appreciate the chaos that is two Strifes.

* * *

A claw-tipped hand reached for the coffee-pot labeled 'STRIFE', followed by a drape of flowing crimson cloth as the hand withdrew the carafe. 

"Ah... Sir?" 

The hand poured most of it into a silver thermos, even as the person answered, "I'm related to Strife's significant other. As it so happens, this isn't even for me; it's for his Ma. Are you going to be the fool to deny another Strife their coffee?" 

"No Sir!" 

"That's what I thought."

* * *

Vincent handed over the thermos to Claudia Strife, getting a grateful look in appreciation as she sipped from the thermos cup. 

She handed it over to Cloud, who poured some of the coffee into the SOLDIER emblazoned black cup and sipped from it. 

He smiled behind his own cup as both Strifes chatted away in Nibel while terrifying nearly all of ShinRa as a result. 

Well—All but three Generals, a Commander and the second in command of the Turks. 

Oh, ShinRa was in for it now; if one Strife was a force of a nature, two were a veritable shitstorm. 

Vincent couldn't wait to see the fallout.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment, complain, ect.


End file.
